My Almost Lover
by Roofran411
Summary: Jonathan Parker, a corrupt Metropolitan police officer, has escaped the hands of the Met team sent to Rio to bring him back to justice in ter lying low for a while he begins to settle down to a new life in Rio.


**MY ALMOST LOVER**

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**Jonathan Parker** is one of the principal characters in the film**The Deadly Game**

I did not create him; I play with him for my own amusement.

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. The song that goes with this very short story is '**Where were you ?'** by **Chicago**

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Where were you when I was following someone?  
I should have been fallin' in love with you

I was doing all right in my own little world  
Suddenly you were there  
Upside down, turned around  
Wasn't looking for anything new

Where were you when I was following someone?  
I should have been falling in love with you  
And now, it's too late 'cause my heart is true  
I gave it away, now I'm looking behind me  
And dreaming of you, are we stronger than fate?

I ain't askin' you to save me  
I'm a weaver of my own web  
I don't know what to do  
But just try to get on with my life

Are we two lovers who found each other  
Just a moment too late  
Are we stronger than fate?  
We'll never know.

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**MY ALMOST LOVER**

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I leaned on the rail of the rooftop observation platform, the sun beating down, the heat, the smell of oil, jet fumes mixed with the perfume of flowers. A scent that could only be Rio.

I watched as the jetway concertinaed away from the huge airliner, and its cabin crew closed its doors.

British Airways flight RDJ/LON 2702 moved slowly away from the terminal and taxied down to the end of the runway turned and began to pick up speed for its take off.

I made my way to the stairs and down to the departure terminal and start to rush, dodging other passengers, finding my way to 'Information'.

Breathlessly, I began to burble in broken Portuguese. "The airport manager ... Urgent ... English speaking... Please."

He arrived. I flashed my warrant card at him. I still had it. That it was no longer valid was neither here nor there. He didn't know that and the leather case with its heavy silver badge was impressive.

"Jonathan Parker, London Metropolitan Police." I wheezed at him. " I need information on passengers on the London plane."

He hesitated.

"Christ, man! This is urgent! I need to know if some people are on it."

"Desculpe, Senor. The London plane has left..."

I cursed proficiently and fluently in English. He may not have known the words but he got the picture.

"Desculpe, perhaps the passenger list may help?"

He tapped a keyboard in front of him several times and turned a monitor towards me.

I ran my finger down.

Yes! There it was.

M.E.A. Fitzgerald.

I let my shoulders sag. I nodded at him.

"Yes, thank you, Senor."

"It has only been minutes since takeoff .You wish me to request them to return?"

I whistled tunelessly through my teeth, nodding as though thinking.

"Thank you, no. That will not be necessary. I will arrange for the plane to be met in London."

I turned away.

Then turned back .

"Thank you yet again, senor. Your co-operation is much appreciated and will not go un-noticed."

I crossed the terminal, shoulders drooping despondently, but a smile creeping across my face.

Outside, I straitened up and signalled for a taxi.

I relaxed into the back seat.

Yes! Yes ! Yes!

"Fasano Rio Hotel."

At the reception desk, the clerk welcomed me.

"Senor Quarry!"

"Hi there! I am collecting my car. Thanks for keeping an eye on it. ... Oh! And thanks too for the call this morning."

"Glad to be of service, Senor Quarry."

I slid a small bundle of notes into his discreet hand and murmured.

"Senor Quarry checked out. You don't know me and neither do your colleagues "

I slipped him another bundle. "A couple of drinks for them."

He tipped his head graciously.

" Of course, senor."

I took my car and retreated to my bolt hole.

I read in a spy story somewhere that someone who needs to lie low or disappear quickly should have a place, unknown to anyone, with passports and cash tucked away.

I thought 'Tripe' at the time but Hey! It works.

I chose another identity leaving the other passports and cash in situ.

I spent the afternoon browsing details from real estate agents.

I settled on one I fancied and arranged a viewing.

A trip to the Apple shop to buy a new mobile phone and a new laptop, then I took a saunter around the marina, carelessly allowing my old phone to slip into the deepest water. The laptop could go another day.

I decided to drop in the Rio Yacht club that evening to make enquiries about membership.

I moved some Bonds into one of the more exclusive banks. One of its directors was a Yacht club member; a quiet word here and there as to my financial status and I was accepted. I joined the yacht club and crewed for anyone who would have me and moved effortlessly into its society.

Of course, it is easy to do so when you can move on the same financial footing.

I bought myself a house, a lovely low old fazenda just outside the city at the start of the foothills.

T he days and weeks passed by.

I occupied myself with my house , sailing, running , the occasional game of squash and keeping my eye on bits and pieces coming through for me on the net and some that weren't meant for me too.

I shut my mind to what I did not want to remember, but gradually other needs began to creep in and I began to look around.

There were others looking too, but I have always had high standards.

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I had met her soon after I joined the club and I had become part of the little circle she and her husband belonged to.

Of average height, slender, lovely legs, dark hair in a short sharp cut, she had a loveliness and an elegance that always attracted me.

In her late thirties, her husband more than ten years old, they appeared a perfect couple.

And Old Money! A lot of Old Money.

Neither of us appeared to show any interest other than politeness.

I had been crewing for another member for most of the day and dropped into the clubhouse for a quick shower and a drink.

It was the early part in the week and the bar was almost empty.

They were sitting alone and he waved me over.

"Join us."

An hour or so passed pleasantly.

At last he stood.

"Time to go. I'll get your coat." he said to his wife.

We sat companionably silent with the remains of our drinks.

I fished a pen out of my pocket and began doodling on a paper coaster.

I looked across the lounge and watched her husband at the bar.

"Would you have a drink with me, sometime?"

She uncrossed her spectacular legs and crossed them again.

"Why should I do that?"

"Fun."

I went on scribbling.

"Fun?" She rubbed her glass against her mouth. "Nothing serious?"

" I don't do serious."

I looked across the room again; her husband was making his way back to us.

"But I **do** do discreet."

As he arrived, I put my glass on the coaster and pushed it imperceptibly towards her.

"Ready?" he said.

She put her handbag on the table and he helped her into her coat.

"We'll see you soon."

Picking up her bag, she gave a cool little nod of her head and they were gone.

So was the coaster.

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Thursday afternoon, my new cell phone rang.

"Is that drink on?"

"When?"

"Tomorrow?"

"That would be nice."

A pause.

"It needs to be early. I have to be back by nine..."

"Six? The Copa Hilton... the Bar Americaine?"

"Right." the phone clicked in my ear.

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On Friday evenings, the Bar Americaine of the Hilton was always heaving, but I have always believed in hiding in full sight.

At 5.59pm, I sat on the stool at the far end of the bar, ordered a whiskey and twisted a plastic electronic room key over and under my fingers.

6.02pm, she slid onto the stool beside me.

Our eyes met in the mirror behind the bar and we smiled.

I raised a finger for the barman and continued to flip my key.

"Whiskey sour."

She put her cell phone on the bar beside her bag.

I took my phone from my pocket, looked briefly at it and put it, together with the room key on the bar.

We said nothing but our eyes were playing games in the mirror.

She finished her drink, stood and slung the chain strap of her Chanel bag over her shoulder and picked up a phone.

"Oh! Perdoem me. Your phone."

She replaced it and took her own.

She turned to leave.

Surprise! Surprise! No Key!

She was quite slick at sleight of hand.

A couple of minutes to finish my drink and I made my way to my room.

I fished another key out of my breast pocket and scratching the door, I let myself in.

She stood by the dressing table, a purplish silk teddy clinging delightfully in the right places

I crossed the room to kiss her. I brushed the teddy straps off her shoulders and she let it fall. She was pulling at my belt.

My mouth on was hers, my tongue searching for hers.

"God, I need it. I need it hot and hard."

That made two of us. I hadn't had it since ... since...

Well... since ...

She leaned back, her hands on the dressing table and took me the way we both needed until she came, collapsing, her head against my shoulder.

"Santo Deus! That was so good, so good."

Still holding her, I guided us to the bed, switched the bed lamp off and we began again slower, softer , this time with fun and laughter, saucy jokes whispered to each other and sensuality wrapped itself around us and I gave up my mind to the touch, the feel of her.

I was woken out of a light doze by the brush of her mouth against my throat and the soft touch of her fingers. I held her head and kissed her.

"I love your hair." I murmured. "So silky. . . "

I kissed the hollow of her throat, her shoulder.

" It will have to be quick." There was laughter in her whisper."I will have to go soon..."

"Mmmm. Mmm."

But I was already lost in us.

"Hey! Hey, I have to go."

She was waking me.

"Yeh, yeh."

I kissed her hair, running my hand up her throat to cup her head.

"Now!"

" Yeah, yeah."

I twisted my fingers in her hair .

"Your hair. Such a glorious colour."

I lifted my hand to let it slide through in a beautiful long veil but my fingers were empty.

I opened my eyes and switched on the bed lamp.

"I must get showered. Ok?"

She picked up her things on her way to the bathroom as I lay, my mind quite blank.

I watched my fingers twist and turn before my eyes. At last, I swung my legs out of bed and pulled on my robe. I stared unseeing into the mirror. I opened the mini-bar for a whiskey.

She came out of the bathroom and switching on a table lamp, took her comb out of her bag and ran it through her short, sleek, black hair. A quick slick of lipstick and she was done .

I raised the whiskey glass to her asking if she wanted one.

"No, no thanks." She leaned against me.

"That was wonderful. Exquisite. And for you ?"

"Yeah, fantastic."

"I must go. Will you...?" She gestured at the door.

We went to the door. I opened it a crack, listened then took a quick look.

I nodded.

A brush of her lips.

"I'll ring you soon."

The door shut and I leaned against it.

How could my mind churn without a single thought?

Whiskey in hand, I walked out onto the balcony. I took a sip and rolled it around my mouth.

I stared down at the orange haze of street lights, fifteen floors below, then up at the black velvet sky with its spangled net of stars.

I watched my fingers walk along the rail.

What had she said?

_'Wonderful...? Exquisite...?'_

Yeah, it was all of that.

And what had I said?

_'fantastic'_ and '_ glorious colour.'_

Glorious colour?

Long shimmering red hair in my head.

Big problem !

The girl on her way home didn't have red hair.

But then the girl who had been in my arms wasn't the girl I had made love to in my mind.

_**She's**_nearly six thousand miles away, working out how to get me back to be held at Her Majesty's Pleasure.

I studied the stars again.

Well! Well, Parker.

The biter bit?

Or is this at long last, love?

If it is, well done you!

You've really buggered things up this time!

.

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( To be held at her Majesty's Pleasure is an euphemism for to serve a prison sentence.)

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_Your fingertips across my skin  
The palm trees swaying in the wind, images  
You sang me Spanish lullabies  
The sweetest sadness in your eyes, clever trick_

_So you're gone and I'm haunted  
And I bet you are just fine  
Did I make it that easy to walk  
Right in and out of my life?_

_Goodbye, my almost lover  
Goodbye, my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Why can't you just let me be?_

_So long, my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
Should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do_

_( excerpt from Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy)_

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